


i want your midnights

by inthehallway



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst, F/M, all other relationships are only briefly mentioned, i guess, the ending is less angsty and more hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthehallway/pseuds/inthehallway
Summary: new year's day, throughout the years.





	i want your midnights

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this because i was feeling nostalgic. it was written pretty fast and is not proofread and none of this is real etc etc
> 
> disclaimer: i know this song was not written about harry, but taylor did mention some lyrics from the song were written a few years ago and she held on to them and put them in this song. so. here you go.

 

  **January 1st, 2013**

_Candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor_

He tells her he loves her for the first time on New Year’s Day.

It’s 2:13 AM – she know she’ll never be able to forget that. She’s the kind of person who remembers everything, even the minuscule, seemingly unimportant details. She could tell you what day of the week she had her first kiss (it was a Wednesday). She could tell you what the weather was like when she got her heart broken for the first time (sunny and warm, like the world was mocking her). She could tell you exactly how it felt the first time Harry had looked at her and smiled, private and just for her (like her heart had stopped and started beating double time all at once).

Harry is in bed next to her, eating a piece of room service chocolate cake. She had told him he was crazy for wanting to order cake at 2 AM, and he’d actually looked mildly offended. “I was a _baker_ , Taylor,” he told her, his words slurred from the red wine he had snuck. He finished, giggling, “It’s in my blood.”

She laughs, doesn’t bother telling him that doesn’t even make sense. He’s nothing short of adorable when he’s drunk – dopey smile on his face, cheeks ruddy, eyes bright. He still feeds her a bite, even though she made fun of him for ordering it.

He’s in nothing but his briefs, tight black fabric hung low on his hips. They hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other when they got back to their room. Technically, even before that – she doesn’t know how she’ll look her family in the eye tomorrow after her and Harry had made out in an elevator full of people, including them. Drunk on the feeling, on top of the wine. After, Harry had taken a few polaroids of her – that was his thing lately, ever since they had taken some together when they were in England for her birthday. When she asked why he loved taking them of her so much, he told her it was because she was kind of like polaroids. _Classic but unique. Strong but delicate._ He had captured the moment after he said that, her cheeks pink. That one was his favorite – she couldn’t hide her smile as she watched him write the date on the bottom in sharpie and stick it between the pages of his new brown leather journal.

She had performed earlier in the night, and then they had spent the last few minutes of the year in Time Square together, watching the ball drop with what felt like half of the country around them. The wind chilled her to the bone, and she kept close to him the whole time. He radiates body heat like nobody she’s ever met – she always gets so warm sleeping next to him. He had held her so tight, kissed her in front of everyone without a care who was watching. And she knew everyone was, but it all faded away when he was kissing her. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt that blissfully happy. Maybe they were finally on solid ground, she thought, as his arms wrapped around her.

That was until now, when she checks her phone.

“Please don’t let them get to you, babe,” Harry begs her as he looks over her shoulder, his voice sobering. There’s videos and pictures of them all over, countless tweets and comments calling her things she doesn’t deserve, all because she kissed her boyfriend at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Millions of people do it around the entire world, but she can’t do it in peace. She doesn’t know why she’s even surprised at this point. She can barely take a step outside without getting shit for it. Throw in one fifth of the most popular boy band in the world and – well.

It hasn’t exactly been easy.

“I know,” Taylor says, finally putting her phone face down on the bed, though she wants to keep reading. She's always been a masochist. “I know I shouldn’t let it affect me anymore. But I just hate seeing people think less of you or me just because we’re together. And I hate – I hate that people think it’s all fake, all a show. That we don’t really care about each other.”

She's mad at herself for still letting it get to her, to them. They had such a good night so far, and she doesn’t want to ruin it, but her mood has been dulled.

“Look at me,” Harry tells her, his hand on the side of her neck, thumb rubbing the skin there softly. His eyes are earnest and so, so green. “Fuck everyone else. It’s you and me, right? Who cares what other people think. Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to be fine.”

She sighs, placing her hand over his. She wishes she felt the same. Her eyes land on the fresh scar on his chin, still healing. It’s a bleak thought, but she figures that no matter what happens, he’ll have a reminder of her forever, right there on his skin. “How do you know?”

He swallows hard, and he doesn’t say anything for a minute. She’s briefly terrified of what’s going to come out of his mouth, for some reason. But then he finally says it, his eyes never breaking away from hers, though his voice trembles a bit. “Cause I love you.”

Her first mistake was believing him.

 

**January 1st, 2014**

_Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you_

Taylor’s in LA this year for New Year’s Eve, spending it at home with her friends. She didn’t want to go to New York City, the wounds somehow healed over and still fresh all at the same time. She spends the night drinking champagne and laughing and taking pictures with Abigail and Sarah, and tries hard not to think about Harry’s lips on hers as they watch the ball drop on the television. She wonders if Harry is thinking of her, too.

She gets her answer when she wakes up the next morning.

She’d fallen asleep soon after midnight, exhausted from the long day and all the alcohol. She hadn’t heard her phone going off. She has no idea what time zone he’s even in. Maybe he’s in LA too. Maybe he’s in London, and he stayed out partying all night, still drunk as the sun came up. He could even be in New York again. When she sees his name on her screen, she honestly considers just deleting the texts before she even reads them, because she’s so _tired_. She’s tired of him never following through, of him making promises and breaking them, and she’s tired of believing him. He has someone else now. She shouldn’t care what he has to say, and he shouldn’t be saying anything.

But curiosity gets the best of her, so she reads them anyway.

 **2:13 AM:** _Hiiiiiii_

 **2:13 AM:** _I thought of you bexause I’m craving chocolate cake remenmber?_

 **2:14 AM:** _When we ate it togethwr_

 **2:19 AM:** _Happy new yearxxxxx_

 **3:06 AM:** _I miss you_

Taylor doesn’t know what he wants from her. They broke up nearly a year ago, and he keeps coming back. She hates herself for not being able to stay away from him. Every time he calls, she tells herself she won’t pick up but then does on the last ring. She tells herself she won’t let it happen again, that she won’t end up back in his bed if he isn’t willing to actually commit – but she always does.

She hates the fact that he still has a hold over her.

She hates him for knowing he has a hold over her, and finding someone else despite that.

Taylor had seen the pictures of him on a date with Kendall Jenner like the rest of the internet had. She’ll never admit to anyone how deeply it hurts, but a constant dull ache is still manifested in her chest. She stopped answering him after that, and hasn’t spoken to him since.

She wonders if he’s with her now, like he was when he had texted her on her birthday. She’d seen the articles dated December 13th:  _Harry Styles flies to London To Spend The Night with Girlfriend Kendall Jenner - It’s Getting Serious!_ and _Harry Styles Spotted Outside Kendall Jenner’s Hotel at 2 AM… And Is That A Condom In His Pocket?_

Was he drunk then too, when he texted her just after midnight? Did he have to sneak off to do it? Why does she even care anymore?

Taylor rolls her eyes. She had ignored him when he texted her two weeks ago, and she doesn’t plan to change that now. She deletes the texts for good measure so she can’t go back to reread and overanalyze them. She thinks about just blocking his number altogether.

It’s a new year, and it’s time to move on.

 

**January 1st, 2015**

_I can tell that it’s gonna be a long road_

Another New Year’s Eve performing in Times Square before the ball drops, another New Year’s Eve letting Harry Styles occupy her thoughts.

She thinks by now she should know better.

Things have been good, though – better than last year at least. They’d been talking more frequently since the album came out, and had reconnected even before that. She wasn’t angry with him anymore, and for some reason it was really important to her for him to know the album was about him beforehand. He handled it better than she ever imagined – sung her praises, in private and in public. And she knew it was genuine.

So they’d been talking more since then. They’d even hung out a few times. She saw him a few weeks ago at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show after party, and they’d practically spent the whole night together, smiles on both of their faces the whole time, drinks flowing. To no one’s surprise, she’d left the party with him. Some things never do change, she guesses.

So she isn’t all that shocked when he texts her just after midnight.

 **12:11 AM:** _Saw the performance. You were great. Should have performed one about me though. It is our anniversary in a way._

Taylor rolls her eyes, chuckling to herself. She’s glad they’re at the point where they can joke about things like that. This is the first time in her life she’s felt comfortable with an ex like this, enough to talk about their relationship and how it went wrong and still be friends. _S_ omething inside her nags y _ou’re not just friends and you never will be,_  but she chooses to ignore it and texts him back.

 **12:16 AM:** _I could only do two songs. But one of yours was next in line if I could have done another, I promise_

She wonders what he’s doing right now, where he even is in the world. He doesn’t sound drunk, so maybe it isn’t even midnight wherever he is yet. It does surprise her, in a way, that he still thinks of her on New Year’s. She knows she’ll never be able to not think about him every time she watches the ball drop, no matter how many years pass. It’s something so special to her, no matter what happens.

 **12:18 AM:** _Good to know. Happy New Year. See you soon hopefully? xx_

Taylor wonders where this is all leading. The ‘friendship’, the flirting, the hooking up again. She’s not even looking to be in a serious relationship right now and she has no idea what he even wants but – _God_. She can never refuse him. She knows he’s been seeing other people, but he already told her it isn’t anything serious. And she’s the one he’s texting at midnight.

She texts him back, tells him they’ll see each other soon. Later, when she's finally in bed, she stares at the ceiling wondering what this year will bring. There’s a thought she can’t get out of her head as she’s laying there, and she realizes it could be a good lyric. She tosses it back and forth in her head, formulating it, and grabs her phone to write it in her notes when she perfects it.

_Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere._

It’s a long time before she falls asleep.

 

**January 1st, 2016**

_I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes_

Taylor spends New Year’s Eve watching Adam perform in Vegas with all her friends, and has the time of her life, downing champagne and letting the music thrum through her.

She doesn’t think about Harry as the clock strikes twelve.

She doesn’t think about the fact that he’s on a boat somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean, fucking Kendall Jenner. She doesn’t think about the pictures she’d seen online. She doesn’t think about how it was probably always going to end up this way, it was always going to be them, and she never stood a chance. She doesn’t wonder if he’s whispering the same promises as he did to her years ago, _I love you_ falling from his lips. She doesn’t wonder if she would even recognize the person standing in front of her if she saw him now.

Taylor doesn’t think about the music video that premiered tonight, the one about him, in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Three years later. She doesn’t wonder if he even knows, or cares.

She doesn’t think about the fact that her current relationship isn’t everything she thought it would be. But she doesn’t leave, because that’s just what she does - she stays. And Adam stays too, which is more than she could ever say for Harry. All he does is run. But she doesn’t think about that, either.

She doesn’t wonder if he thinks about her, if he spares her even a second of his time, as midnight comes and goes.

She sips her champagne, and she kisses her boyfriend, and she doesn’t think of anything at all.

 

**January 1st, 2017**

_I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day_

It’s the best New Year’s Eve she’s had in a long time.

She spends it in London with Joe. They throw a party for all their friends and family, and everything is perfect. He’s perfect.

For the first time in years, she truly barely even thinks about Harry. She lets herself wonder, for just one moment, how he spent the night. Maybe he's on a tropical island somewhere, or on another boat, kissing another girl at midnight. Maybe he’s taking pictures of her now, too. She hopes he’s happy, wherever he is, and finds she doesn’t want to know whether he thought of her or not. It’s been nearly two years since they even spoke.

Joe’s still there the next morning when she wakes up with a terrible hangover. He hands her Advil and a glass of water, and leaves her in bed to go start tidying up the apartment. He’s the only one who’s ever actually wanted to stay and clean up her messes. She smiles as she heads out into the living room to help him, picking up some empty bottles strewn across the tables as she goes.

Taylor imagines spending the rest of her days like this, and she feels content.

 

**January 1st, 2018**

_Don’t read the last page_

Taylor is back in New York for New Year’s Eve, half a decade after she spent it in the middle of Times Square for the first time.

They stay in, not wanting the attention or the cameras in their face or the prying eyes. She’s been there too many times before, and she’s not letting that be her life anymore. She’s not going to let people make a mockery out of her relationship. She won’t let anyone ruin it this time, like she has so many times before.

She kisses Joe at midnight, as it changes from New Year’s Eve to New Year’s Day, and doesn’t think about the past even for a second. He tells her he loves her, and she only thinks about the future.

 

**January 1st, 2019**

_And I will hold onto you_

She doesn’t know why she finds it so funny, that she runs into him in New York on New Year's Day.

It’s freezing today, the wind chilling her to the bone. She bundled up to go get some coffee, just wanting to get out of the house after spending the whole past day inside. It’s still early, the sun barely up in the sky, so the streets are still relatively empty, the bitter cold not helping to draw people outside. She has trouble sleeping in, these days. It’s been hard to adjust to an empty bed. Even harder to adjust to an empty ring finger.

She orders a nonfat caramel latte, and stands to the side while she waits. She texts Lily and Martha, wishing them Happy New Year, asking how their nights were. Hopefully more eventful than hers.

She hears him before she sees him.

“Could I have a small iced coffee, black, please?” Her head violently snaps up at his voice, like her mind doesn't believe her ears. She hasn't heard him speak in so long. He laughs at something the barista says, and she’s transported back to six years ago like a day hasn’t passed since. She shouldn’t be staring, but she can’t look away. He looks good, in his black jeans and long black coat. His curls are wild, his hair grown out more since the last picture she’d seen a month or two back. The last time she saw him in person, years ago, it was even longer than her own.

He must feel eyes on him, because he turns his head and looks right at her across the room. He doesn’t try to hide his shock, but a second later a soft smile stretches across his face as he walks over towards her. She’s thankful the coffee shop is nearly empty, the only occupants older and seemingly not knowing who they are or not caring. It’s strange, though, being in the same room as him and not feeling a sense of panic. No hushed whispers, no flashes, no eyes glancing their way. Just them.

“Of all the coffee joints in New York City,” Harry says when he reaches her, grinning. She can’t help but smile herself. He always did have that effect on her. She’s not surprised it doesn’t even feel uncomfortable, despite all the time and silence and songs written between the two of them. It always was so easy, falling back into him. That was never the problem.

“Iced coffee, Styles, really? It’s like, below zero outside,” she jokes, raising an eyebrow at him, watching the dimples carve themselves into his cheeks.

“The heart wants what it wants, what can I say.” Harry shrugs, eyes sparkling. They’re still just as absurdly green as she remembers. “It’s really good to see you. It’s been – _God,_ forever.”

Taylor can hear the sincerity in his voice, and she knows he means it. He sounds kind of in awe, that they're even standing in front of each other right now. She knows the feeling. “It’s good to see you too. I can’t believe we ran into each other here, of all places.”

“It’s mad how the world works, right? I actually - I actually almost went to a different place. But something told me I should come here instead,” Harry says sheepishly. “Sounds kinda weird, but.”

A few years ago Taylor would have thought that was something like fate, but she doesn’t really believe in things like that anymore. Still, she can’t stop her mind from screaming the word _serendipity_. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Her thoughts are broken when he speaks up again. “So how are things? How’s your family? Everyone have a good Christmas?”

She realizes then that he seems kind of... nervous? He's never been a fast talker, and rambling was always one of his tells when he felt anxious. She knows he knows about the broken off engagement. It was everywhere, another big story about another one of Taylor Swift’s failed relationships. _She really thought he was the one,_ they wrote. They weren’t wrong. Maybe Harry doesn’t know how to ask how she’s doing, to bring it up, so she does it for him.

“Everyone is good. I mean, it’s been a hard year but… things are good now.” She means it, for the most part.

He smiles, pleased at that, as her name is called in the background. “I’m really glad.”

Taylor walks over to grab her coffee where it’s waiting on the counter, then turns back to Harry. “How’s everything with you? Have a good New Year’s Eve?”

“Didn’t really do anything. I hung out with Jeff and Glenne, that’s about it. Not nearly as fun as the last one I spent here.” He raises his eyebrows, nudging her shoulder with his, and she actually laughs out loud. He’s still as charming as ever. He grins widely at her, and despite all the years gone by, it still feels familiar.

“Six years ago, now,” Taylor says, taking a sip of her latte. It’s too hot and it burns her tongue.

Harry nods, stuffing his free hand into his coat pocket. “Crazy, innit? It feels like it was a lifetime ago, and like it was just yesterday, all at once.”

She knows what he means. Six years is a long time, but it doesn’t feel nearly as long as she looks at him now. She thinks of those two kids, wide eyed and in love in the middle of Times Square, and wishes she could go back to warn them of what’s to come. 

His name is called then, and he turns back to the counter to grab his own coffee. He takes a sip, then says, “Listen, I’m actually on my way to a meeting with my record label. But I’m in the city for the next week. And – I don’t know, would you want to catch up soon? Maybe?”

He asks her like he already knows she’s going to say no. But she can still hear it in his voice, the thinly veiled hopefulness. She should say no.

Instead she says, “Sure. I’d like that.”

Harry’s smiles almost shyly, dimples just starting to show. “Great. I got a new number, um, is yours still the same?”

Taylor nods. “Still the same.”

“Okay,” Harry says, running his hand through his hair like he used to do when he was eighteen and had buried his way into her heart so effortlessly. Seems like she's been trying to dig pieces of him out ever since. “I really have to get going, but I’ll call you, alright?”

She finds she actually believes him. She smiles as she says, “Alright, Harry. Have a good meeting.”

Harry returns her smile, eyes crinkling up, then starts backing away. “I’ll see you soon.”

She watches him walk out into the New York cold, drinking his ridiculous iced coffee, until she can't see him anymore. She takes another sip of her own, even though she knows it’s still too hot and will probably just burn her again. She never learns. 

_We begin our story in New York._


End file.
